


The worst idea since Azshara set her sights on Sargeras

by zillah975



Series: An Unkindness of Ravens [7]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen, World of Warcraft RP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 14:53:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9389903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zillah975/pseuds/zillah975
Summary: Hooves gets engaged to Ravenhul, who wants Seya dead, and asks Seya to be a bridesmaid. The conversation rambles somewhat.





	

[[RP log between Seya and Hooves (Nehelennia)]]

 

Seyahat brings Scudder down outside the Pig and Whistle, his hooves clattering on the cobblestones for a handful of beats before she’s dismounted and sent him on his way. She starts to check her mail at the box outside the tavern, but then catches a glimpse of familiar purple armor behind her, and turns to see Hooves. “Hey there,” she says with a wave. “How’s your morning going?”

Hooves grins brightly. “Hi, Seya! Let’s go have a drink to celebrate! I have soooo much to do!”

Seya follows her into the tavern, feeling – as she so often does with Hooves – that she’s come into the middle of a conversation. They make their way to a table and sit down. “So what are you celebrating?”

Hooves blushes, still grinning. “Well…I found out why Rav– Melvin was in Darkshire last night!”

Seyahat gets out a fur-covered flask and opens it up. The aroma of kafa wafts out, and she takes a first blessed sip. Ravenhul’s visit had been as pleasant as always, which was to say that Seya had gone home itching to kill something and angry about her friend’s obsession with the thrice-damned fel-eating son of a murloc. She’d tossed and turned for an hour before giving up and going to work on the training dummies in Old Town to wear herself out. “Oh?”

Hooves reaches into her satchel and pulls out a bottle of wine. “Yup! He wasn’t there to beat anyone up,” she explains as she pours. The wine is dark red in the low light of the inn. She gives Seya a delighted grin and squeals, “He asked me to marry him!”

Seyahat’s skeptical expression turns shocked. “He – oh Elune….” She covers her face with her palm, feeling sick. “Well, congratulations then.”

Hooves nods. “So I’m gonna need bridesmaids. Are you any good at cleaning? And thanks.”

Seyahat arches an eyebrow. “No, I am not. Not for anyone but myself, at least. Why? Is the boat that untidy?” Could Hooves possibly want her to  _clean_  something for this wretched affair? 

Hooves frowns thoughtfully. “Oh, um…Hmm. I wanted to ask you to be a bridesmaid. And, well, maids clean.”

Seyahat nods, cold to the tips of her ears. “I see.”

Hooves continues as if oblivious to Seya’s discomfort. “I think they mainly clean the bride’s dress. I’m really worried about bloodstains, ya know? More than spilling booze on myself, even.”

Seyahat nibbles her thumb. “Bridesmaids don’t clean,” she says, and lets out a sigh.

“They don’t? So who gets the blood off the dress when the guests try to murder each other?”

Seya forbears to point out that at a proper wedding, between people who should be together, murder would not typically be a concern. “Bridesmaids,” she explains, clinging to her patience with both hands, “are called that because they’re usually young, unmarried women, who are sometimes called ‘maids’.”

“Oooh.” Hooves nods in understanding. “Are they better at cleaning?”

Seyahat draws in a slow breath. “They don’t clean, Hooves. They help the bride, and they throw a party for her, and they show up at the wedding to stand with her and pretend they don’t hate the groom.”

“But what about the blood?” Hooves goes on. “I’m not gonna wear a white dress, that’s all. Maybe red would hide it better.”

Aedis Brom and Christoph Faral wander past, having the same conversation she’s heard them have a hundred times. “I tell ye, I don’t miss the Great War at all,” Aedis says. “I remember when we fought at Darrowmere. All night in the fog, lying in a muddy trench.”

“Broke both me legs that night,” Christoph answers. “How could I forget?”

“You can thank me anytime for making your life more interesting,” Aedis replies with a grin, and Seya wonders if maybe she should thank Hooves for making _her_  life more interesting. Or if she’d rather be lying in a muddy trench all night.

“Hooves,” she says, “I would recommend you have the wedding someplace neutral. Someplace where no one will be trying to kill you.”

“Shattrath,” Hooves answers. “Already decided on that.”

“And don’t invite the people who want to kill each other, either,” Seya goes on. “Make it a very small affair, with just you and him and the one performing the ceremony.”

“But sometimes people you don’t want show up anyway. Even when the invitation says for them  _not_  to show up.”

Seyahat nods wearily. “Shattrath is a good choice then.”

“I mean, I know a lot of people aren’t real happy with me because of Melvin. Not surprised about that,” Hooves continues worriedly. “But I just can’t stop thinking about what might happen to him if some of those people get a hold of him! They could hurt him – they could kill him!”

Seyahat sighs. “If all of the Devilclaw have not been able to put him in the ground for good, then I doubt anyone else will be able to either.”

“You don’t think we should worry?” Hooves asks quietly. “I think they’re gonna be hunting the both of us.”

“I’ll be honest,” Seya says, and meets Hooves’s gaze. Her tone is serious. “I’d like to see your lover dead as well. It’s only for your sake that I would ever…well, I can’t say I’d defend him. But I haven’t attacked him unprovoked.”

Hooves frowns. “Thanks…I think?”

“Ever, I’d like to point out,” Seya continues. “He’s the one who started this hatred between us.”

“Ya know, he’s been having a lot of guilt over things he’s done,” Hooves says. She reaches for the wine again. “He didn’t try to kill you last night, did he? He’s changing!”

Seyahat scowls. “From the moment he abducted you I’ve despised him. He _hurt_  you, Nehelennia.”

Hooves nods. “He apologized for all that. And he hasn’t done it again – that means things are different.”

Seyahat leans back, her heart sinking. She feels like something is caught in her throat. She shakes her head. “You may forgive him for that, but I can’t. And however guilty he feels, it brings back none of the dead.”

“Besides,” Hooves adds, “lots of other people I talk to have hurt me a lot more.”

Seyahat nods. “Araane is wrong in the way she treats you,” she admits. But Hooves is speaking again before Seya can point out the difference.

“But if people get too attached to their guilt, they can’t really do anything good,” she goes on. “For months I felt so guilty about Figmar. I could hardly even sleep, but I finally forgave myself because it was holding me back. I thought I was better off trying to follow the Light instead. And I knew what I was supposed to do.”

Seyahat watches her closely. “And what’s that?”

Hooves looks around the inn before answering, and she ducks her head as if expecting to be ridiculed. “Trying to bring a little more peace in whatever way I can,” she answers, starting to slump, but then she stiffens her shoulders and straightens again. “And I’m going to try, because it’s the right thing to do. Even if it doesn’t work.” Her tone is more determined than Seya remembers ever hearing it.

She nods. “Well, that’s a worthy goal. You may be doomed to disappointment, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”

“That’s why I wanted that party so badly, too. And, I’m sure it won’t resolve everything, but maybe a few hearts will be changed.”

Seyahat touches Hooves’ arm. “But be careful. I worry about you, you know. You’re too quick to trust. I worry you’ll end up hurt more than you can heal.”

Hooves nods. “I worry about everyone. So, instead of worrying, I decided to do my best to fix things. I gave up too easily before, when I tried to fix stuff with Melvin and you guys. But if I don’t do something, I just worry and get angry.”

“Never very useful,” Seya agrees.

“And even if I fail today, I can try again tomorrow, right? It’s not really failing if you don’t stop trying.”

Christoph and Aedis are wandering back past on their way out again. “Wasn’t that the night we had to pick up my thumb and carry it in your smoke pouch?” Aedis is asking.

“You are constantly surprising me with what a person can live through,” Christoph answers. Seya wonders if Aedis finds it as amusing as Christoph seems to.

“When I first started trying for this peace initiative,” Hooves is saying, and Seya turns back to her, “even when I first realized I cared for Melvin, I didn’t really think I’d live long.” Her voice is quieter now, but no less determined. “People want vengeance against Rav–Melvin for the things he’s done in the war, and against me for…well, for loving him I guess. But when people sacrifice themselves for war and then other people go to avenge them and then more people go to avenge those people, well then it’s just vengeance and death for everyone forever, and no one is ever happy again!” She fixes Seya with a fierce gaze. “Peace is something I’ll sacrifice for. It’s something _I’m_  willing to die for. And you better tell people that I will come back from the dead and haunt them forever if anyone tries to avenge me!”

It’s the most sense Hooves has made today, and Seya watches her for a long moment, the determination in her eyes, the proud set of her shoulders. “Even me?” she asks with a smile.

“Seriously, they’ll never sleep,” Hooves insists, and she’s off and running, “because I’ll bang pots and pans, and make the blankets float off them, and sneak up behind them and yell, 'Boo!’ You wouldn’t want ghostly Hooves haunting you. I’ll even sing! Come to think of it, I’d make a pretty good ghost.” Seya is stifling her chuckles, and then Hooves turns serious again. “But, um, I don’t want to die, okay?”

Seyahat nods, her laughter fading. “I don’t want you to die, either.”

“So, I’m going to do my best not to.”

They sit in silence for a moment, Seya with her flask of kafa and Hooves with her wine. After a while, Hooves says, “So, even though you can’t clean, will you be a bridesmaid anyway?”

Seyahat frowns and looks at her hands. “Hooves, bridesmaids are supposed to approve of the wedding. You’ll have to give me time to think about it.”

“But I love him and he must really love me,” Hooves says in a pout. “It’s not like he’s hiding me anymore, like I’m some kind of secret.”

“I’ve never been asked to _approve_  of a friend marrying someone who’s run his sword through me,” Seya replies, scowling.

Hooves tugs on a pigtail. “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked…” She frowns at her hooves, and Seya instantly feels guilty.

“You know how much I care for you,” she says, “but this… I’m going to have to think about it.”

Hooves nods. “Okay.”

Seya reaches for her kafa, and wonders how much thinking she’ll have to do before she can convince herself this isn’t the worst idea since Azshara set her sights on Sargeras.


End file.
